وَسائِلَةٍ أَيُّ المَذاهِبِ مَذَهَبي

وَسائِلَةٍ أَيُّ المَذاهِبِ مَذَهَبي

وَهَل كانَ فَرعاً في الدِياناتِ أَم أَصلا

وَهَل كانَ فَرعاً في الدِياناتِ أَم أَصلا

And a woman asked which of the creeds was mine,

To What Doctrine Do I Belong?

She asks me: which doctrine do I follow?

And whether it was a branch among religions or a root,

To what doctrine do I belong, and which of the religions is mine?

Is it a fundamental creed, or merely a branch of faith?

وَأَيُّ نَبِيٍّ مُرسَلٍ أَقتَدي بِهِ

وَأَيُّ نَبِيٍّ مُرسَلٍ أَقتَدي بِهِ

وَأَيُّ كِتابٍ مُنَزَلٍ عِندِيَ الأَغلى

وَأَيُّ كِتابٍ مُنَزَلٍ عِندِيَ الأَغلى

And which prophet, sent as a messenger, I followed,

Is it a branch among faiths or is it the root?

And which sent prophet do I emulate?

And which revealed book I held most dear.

And which prophet do I follow?

And which revealed scripture do I hold most dear?

فَقُلتُ لَها لا يَقتَني المَرءُ مَذهَباً

فَقُلتُ لَها لا يَقتَني المَرءُ مَذهَباً

وَإِنَ جَلَّ إِلّا كانَ في عُنقِهِ غُلّا

وَإِنَ جَلَّ إِلّا كانَ في عُنقِهِ غُلّا

So I told her: no person adopts a creed,

And which revelation do I hold most dear?

I said to her: A man does not adopt a sect,

However exalted, without its becoming a shackle around his neck.

I said to her: One does not acquire a doctrine

However noble it may be, without it becoming a yoke upon his neck.

فَما مَذهَبُ الإِنسانِ إِلّا زُجاجَةً

فَما مَذهَبُ الإِنسانِ إِلّا زُجاجَةً

تُقَيِّدُهُ خَمراً وَتَضبُطُهُ خَلّا

تُقَيِّدُهُ خَمراً وَتَضبُطُهُ خَلّا

A person's creed is nothing but a bottle,

Unless he bears a yoke around his neck.

For man's doctrine is but a glass vessel,

Confining him as wine and containing him as vinegar.

So the doctrine of a person is but a flask

Containing him whether he be wine or vinegar.

فَإِن كانَ قُبحاً لَم يُبَدِّلهُ لَونُها

فَإِن كانَ قُبحاً لَم يُبَدِّلهُ لَونُها

جَمالاً وَلا نُبلاً إِذا لَم يَكُن نُبلا

جَمالاً وَلا نُبلاً إِذا لَم يَكُن نُبلا

If he is ugly, its color cannot make him

That shackles him, whether it is wine or vinegar.

If he is foul, the vessel’s hue will not transform him

Beautiful, nor noble if he is not noble.

If it was ugly, its color does not turn it into beauty,

Into beauty, nor create nobility where none exists.

أَنا آدَمِيٌّ كانَ يَحسَبُ أَنَّهُ

أَنا آدَمِيٌّ كانَ يَحسَبُ أَنَّهُ

هُوَ الكائِنُ الأَسمى وَشُرعَتُهُ الفُضلى

هُوَ الكائِنُ الأَسمى وَشُرعَتُهُ الفُضلى

I am a human being who once thought himself

Nor into nobility if it had no innate nobility.

I am a human who once believed that he

The highest being, with the finest law,

I am an earthling who thought

Was the supreme being, and his law the most virtuous;

وَأَنَّ لَهُ الدُنيا الَّتي هُوَ بَعضُها

وَأَنَّ لَهُ الدُنيا الَّتي هُوَ بَعضُها

وَأَنَّ لَهُ الأُخرى إِذا صامَ أَو صَلّى

وَأَنَّ لَهُ الأُخرى إِذا صامَ أَو صَلّى

And thought the world his own, though he was part of it,

He was the highest creation with the best laws.

That the world, of which he is but a part, belongs to him,

And the hereafter his, if he fasted or prayed.

And that this world, of which he is but a part, belongs to him

And the Hereafter is his, if he but fasts or prays.

أَمُنُّ عَلى الصادي إِذا ما سَقيتُهُ

أَمُنُّ عَلى الصادي إِذا ما سَقيتُهُ

وَأُلزِمُهُ شُكري وَلَستُ أَنا الوَبلا

وَأُلزِمُهُ شُكري وَلَستُ أَنا الوَبلا

I flaunt my favor to the thirsty when I give him water,

And the next world too, if he fasted or prayed.

I claim merit over the thirsty when I quench his thirst,

And oblige him to thank me, though I am not the downpour.

I give thanks when I quench the thirsty,

Demanding his gratitude, though I am not the rain-cloud.

وَأُزهى إِذا أَطعَمتُ جَوعانَ لُقمَةً

وَأُزهى إِذا أَطعَمتُ جَوعانَ لُقمَةً

كَأَنّي خَلَقتُ الحَبَّ في الحَقلِ وَالحَقلا

كَأَنّي خَلَقتُ الحَبَّ في الحَقلِ وَالحَقلا

And I grow proud when I feed a hungry person a morsel,

As if it was I who created the grain in the field and the field itself.

I swell with pride if I feed the hungry a mere morsel,

As though I created the grain in the field—and the field itself.

For an era, I was apprentice to Man in the course of time,

As if I created both the grain within the field, and the field itself.

تَتَلمَذتُ لِلإِنسانِ في الدَهرتِ حُقبَةً

تَتَلمَذتُ لِلإِنسانِ في الدَهرتِ حُقبَةً

فَلَقَّنَني غِيّاً وَعَلَّمَني جَهلا

فَلَقَّنَني غِيّاً وَعَلَّمَني جَهلا

I was man's pupil for a stretch of time;

So he taught me deceit and imparted ignorance.

For an epoch, I apprenticed myself to Mankind,

So he schooled me in error and taught me ignorance.

He prohibited me from taking souls, then when

But he tutored me in error and taught me ignorance.

نهاني عَن قَتلِ النُفوسِ وَعِندَما

نهاني عَن قَتلِ النُفوسِ وَعِندَما

رَأى غُرَّةً مِنّي تَعَلَّمَ بِيَ القَتلا

رَأى غُرَّةً مِنّي تَعَلَّمَ بِيَ القَتلا

He forbade me to take lives, yet when

He saw some weakness in me, he taught me to kill.

He forbade me from slaying souls, yet when

He found me unguarded, he learned to kill at my expense.

And he condemned slavery to me, then enslaved me,

He saw me off my guard, he practiced killing upon me.

وَذَمَّ إِلَيَّ الرِقَّ ثُمَّ اُِستَرَقَّني

وَذَمَّ إِلَيَّ الرِقَّ ثُمَّ اُِستَرَقَّني

وَصَوَّرَ ظُلماً فيهِ تَمجيدُهُ عَدلا

وَصَوَّرَ ظُلماً فيهِ تَمجيدُهُ عَدلا

And he condemned slavery to me, then enslaved me,

And portrayed oppression as if it were justice.

He denounced slavery to me, then made me his slave,

And portrayed oppression that glorified him as justice.

He almost made me see sin in everything I saw

Portraying the injustice that glorified him as justice.

وَكادَ يُريني الإِثمَ في كُلِّ ما أَرى

وَكادَ يُريني الإِثمَ في كُلِّ ما أَرى

وَكُلَّ نِظامٍ غَيرَ ما سَنَّ مُختَلّا

وَكُلَّ نِظامٍ غَيرَ ما سَنَّ مُختَلّا

He nearly made me see sin in everything I saw,

And that every system other than what he established was crooked.

He nearly made me see sin in all that I beheld,

And every system but the one he ordained as flawed.

So people became to me both an enemy and companion,

And view every system but his own as flawed.

فَصارَ الوَرى عِندي عَدُوّاً وَصاحِباً

فَصارَ الوَرى عِندي عَدُوّاً وَصاحِباً

وَأَنفُسُهُم صِنفَينِ عَلياءَ أَو سُفلى

وَأَنفُسُهُم صِنفَينِ عَلياءَ أَو سُفلى

So people became, in my eyes, enemies and friends,

And they themselves were either superior or inferior.

So mankind became to me divided: friend and foe,

And their souls were of two kinds: lofty or lowly.

And I started to see hatred, and I started to see love,

Their souls of two castes: the exalted and the base.

وَصُرتُ أَرى بُغضاً وَصُرتُ أَرى هَوىً

وَصُرتُ أَرى بُغضاً وَصُرتُ أَرى هَوىً

وَصُرتُ أَرى عَبداً وَصُرتُ أَرى مَولى

وَصُرتُ أَرى عَبداً وَصُرتُ أَرى مَولى

I came to see hatred, and I came to see love,

And I started to see a slave, and I started to see a lord.

I began to see hatred, and I began to see passion,

I came to see a slave, and I came to see a master.

Oh, the evils that befall the entirely good!

I began to see the slave, and I began to see the master.

وَيا رُبَّ شَرٍّ خِلتَهُ الخَيرَ كُلُّهُ

وَيا رُبَّ شَرٍّ خِلتَهُ الخَيرَ كُلُّهُ

وَيا رُبَّ خَيرٍ خِلتُهُ نَكبَةً جُلّى

وَيا رُبَّ خَيرٍ خِلتُهُ نَكبَةً جُلّى

And oh, how many an evil I deemed wholly good!

And oh, the goods that befall the entirely evil!

How often did I mistake evil for pure good,

And oh, how many a good thing I deemed a great calamity!

Until I saw a star rise in the darkness

And how often did I deem a blessing a grave disaster.

إِلى أَن رَأَيتُ النَجمَ يَطلَعُ في الدُجى

إِلى أَن رَأَيتُ النَجمَ يَطلَعُ في الدُجى

لِذي مُقلَةٍ حَسرى وَذي مُقلَةٍ جَذلى

لِذي مُقلَةٍ حَسرى وَذي مُقلَةٍ جَذلى

Until I saw the star rise in the darkness,

For one who despairs, and for one who rejoices.

Until I watched the star rise in the pitch-black night,

For a sorrowful eye and a joyful eye alike,

And I saw how the river gives its water

Shining for the sorrowful eye and the joyful eye alike.

وَشاهَدتُ كَيفَ النَهرُ يَبذُلُ مائَهُ

وَشاهَدتُ كَيفَ النَهرُ يَبذُلُ مائَهُ

فَلا يَبتَغي شُكراً وَلا يَدَّعي فَضلا

فَلا يَبتَغي شُكراً وَلا يَدَّعي فَضلا

And watched how the river gives its water,

Without seeking gratitude or claiming merit.

And I witnessed how the river grants its waters,

Seeking no thanks and claiming no merit,

And how the dawn adorns itself with roses and wildflowers

Seeking no gratitude, claiming no virtue.

وَكَيفدَ يُزينُ الطَلُّ وَرداً وَعَوسَجاً

وَكَيفدَ يُزينُ الطَلُّ وَرداً وَعَوسَجاً

وَكَيفَ يُرَوِّ العارِضُ الوَعرَ وَالسَهلا

وَكَيفَ يُرَوِّ العارِضُ الوَعرَ وَالسَهلا

And how the dew adorns roses and boxthorn,

And how the clouds water the rugged and smooth earth alike.

How the dew adorns both the rose and the thornbush,

And how the raincloud waters rugged ground and level ground,

And how the earth nourishes the trees of its orchards,

And how the rain-cloud waters the rugged peak and the plain.

وَكَيفَ تُغَذّي الأَرضُ أَلأَمَ نَبتِها

وَكَيفَ تُغَذّي الأَرضُ أَلأَمَ نَبتِها

وَأَقبَحَهُ شَكلاً كَأَحسَنَهُ شَكلا

وَأَقبَحَهُ شَكلاً كَأَحسَنَهُ شَكلا

And how the earth nourishes its meanest plants,

The ugliest and most beautiful in form.

How the earth nourishes the vilest of its weeds,

And its ugliest in form just like its fairest in form.

So my view of life became like nature’s view,

And the most unsightly, just as it feeds the fairest bloom.

فَأَصبَحَ رَأيِ في الحَياةِ كَرَأيِها

فَأَصبَحَ رَأيِ في الحَياةِ كَرَأيِها

وَأَصبَحتُ لي دينٌ سِوى مَذهَبي قَبلا

وَأَصبَحتُ لي دينٌ سِوى مَذهَبي قَبلا

So my view of life became like hers,

And I came to have a religion other than my doctrine before.

So my philosophy of life became as nature’s is,

And I came to have a faith other than my former creed.

And every mind that sets free became my prophet,

And I embraced a faith unlike the sect I held before.

وَصارَ نَبِيِّ كُلُّ ما يُطلِقُ العَقلا

وَصارَ نَبِيِّ كُلُّ ما يُطلِقُ العَقلا

وَصارَ كِتابي الكَونُ لا صُحُفٌ تُتلا

وَصارَ كِتابي الكَونُ لا صُحُفٌ تُتلا

And my prophet became all that frees the mind,

And my scripture became the universe, not mere pages recited.

My prophet became all that liberates the mind,

And my book became the universe, not recited pages.

So my religion is like the religion of the meadow, fragrant with wildflowers,

And my scripture the Universe, not pages to be recited.

فَديني كَدينِ الرَوضِ يَعبَقُ بِالشَذى

فَديني كَدينِ الرَوضِ يَعبَقُ بِالشَذى

وَلَو لَم يَكُن فيهِ سِوى اللِصُّ مُنسَلّا

وَلَو لَم يَكُن فيهِ سِوى اللِصُّ مُنسَلّا

So my faith is like the garden's, fragrant with sweet scent,

Even if the only thing in it was a sneaking thief.

My faith is like the garden’s faith, exuding fragrance,

Even if none but a thief is slipping through it.

Its borders are not the borders of Malikism,

Even if none but a thief sneaks through its paths.

فَلَيسَت تُخومُ المالِكِيَّةِ تُخومُهُ

فَلَيسَت تُخومُ المالِكِيَّةِ تُخومُهُ

وَإِن لَهُ إِن يَعلَموا غَيرَهُم أَهلا

وَإِن لَهُ إِن يَعلَموا غَيرَهُم أَهلا

For the boundaries of ownership are not its boundaries,

Even if they did not know others who belonged to it.

Its borders are not defined by property lines,

And it has, if they only knew, kin beyond them.

It welcomed the breeze, the light and guidance,

And it welcomes others more worthy than its owners know.

فَكَم هَشَّ لِلأَنسامِ وَالنورِ وَالهُدى

فَكَم هَشَّ لِلأَنسامِ وَالنورِ وَالهُدى

وَآوى إِلَيهِ الطَيرَ وَالذَرَّ وَالنَملا

وَآوى إِلَيهِ الطَيرَ وَالذَرَّ وَالنَملا

How often it welcomed breezes, light, and guidance,

And sheltered the birds, the mites and ants.

How often has it smiled for the breezes, the light, and the dawn,

And sheltered birds, tiny ants, and ants within itself.

And how much it resuscitated from ruin

And given shelter to the birds, the motes, and the ants.

وَكَم بَعَثَتهُ لِلحَياةِ مِنَ البِلى

وَكَم بَعَثَتهُ لِلحَياةِ مِنَ البِلى

قَريحَةُ فَنّانٍ فَأَورَقَ وَاِخضَلّا

قَريحَةُ فَنّانٍ فَأَورَقَ وَاِخضَلّا

And how often it was raised to life from decay

By the genius of an artist who made it bloom and turn green!

How often has it been raised to life from decay,

By an artist's genius, putting forth leaves and growing lush.

And its specter started to shine in a poem

By an artist's inspiration, blooming verdant and lush.

وَأَصبَحَ يُجلي طَيفُهُ في قَصيدَةٍ

وَأَصبَحَ يُجلي طَيفُهُ في قَصيدَةٍ

وَفي رُقعَةٍ أَو لَوحَةٍ وَهوَ لا يُجلى

وَفي رُقعَةٍ أَو لَوحَةٍ وَهوَ لا يُجلى

And its image came to light in a poem,

Or painting or panel though it cannot be revealed.

Revealing its spectral beauty in a poem,

And on a sheet or a canvas, while it itself remained unseen.

And my religion which the brook chose for itself—

Or upon a canvas, though in reality it remains unseen.

وَديني الَّذي اِختارَ الغَديرُ لِنَفسِهِ

وَديني الَّذي اِختارَ الغَديرُ لِنَفسِهِ

وَيا حُسنَ ما اِختارَ الغَديرُ وَما أَحلى

وَيا حُسنَ ما اِختارَ الغَديرُ وَما أَحلى

And my faith is the one the pool chose for itself,

Oh, how excellent is what the brook chose, and how sweet!

And my faith is that which the stream chose for itself,

And oh, how lovely the pool's choice, and how sweet!

The birds come to it thirsty and are sated,

How beautiful is the stream’s choice, and how sweet!

تَجيءُ إِلَيهِ الطَيرُ عَطشى فَتَرتَوي

تَجيءُ إِلَيهِ الطَيرُ عَطشى فَتَرتَوي

وَإِن وَرَدَتهُ الإِبلُ لَم يَزجُرِ الإِبلا

وَإِن وَرَدَتهُ الإِبلُ لَم يَزجُرِ الإِبلا

Birds come to it thirsty and drink their fill,

And if camels stopped by, it would not drive away the camels.

The birds come to it thirsty and drink their fill,

And if camels come to drink there, it does not drive the camels away.

The sinful wolf bathes in its water,

And if camels approach, it does not drive them away.

وَيَغتَسِلُ الذِئبُ الأَثيمُ بِمائِهِ

وَيَغتَسِلُ الذِئبُ الأَثيمُ بِمائِهِ

فَلا إِثمُ ذا يُمحى وَلا طُهرُ ذا يَبلى

فَلا إِثمُ ذا يُمحى وَلا طُهرُ ذا يَبلى

And the sinful wolf bathes in its water,

So no sin that is erased, and no purity that wears out.

The sinful wolf washes in its waters,

Yet the wolf's sin is not erased, nor the pool's purity worn away.

And my religion is like the religion of the stars that appear to a lover,

Yet the wolf’s sin is not erased, nor the water’s purity defiled.

وَديني كَديني الشُهبِ تَبدو لِعاشِقٍ

وَديني كَديني الشُهبِ تَبدو لِعاشِقٍ

وَقالٍ وَفيها ما يُحِبُّ وَما يُقلى

وَقالٍ وَفيها ما يُحِبُّ وَما يُقلى

And my faith is like the stars' faith: they appear to a lover,

A narrator—and it contains what he loves and what revolts him.

My faith is like the stars’, appearing to the lover,

And a hater; among them is what one loves and what is loathed.

It does not hide in order to lead an astray traveler,

And to the hater alike—containing what is loved and what is loathed.

فَما اِستَتَرَت كَيما يُضِلُّ مُسافِرٌ

فَما اِستَتَرَت كَيما يُضِلُّ مُسافِرٌ

وَلا بَزَغَت كَي يَستَنيرَ الَّذي ضَلّا

وَلا بَزَغَت كَي يَستَنيرَ الَّذي ضَلّا

For they did not hide so a traveler would lose his way,

Nor does it shine in order to illuminate one who has lost his way.

They do not hide themselves to lead a traveler astray,

Nor did they rise so one who was lost might find light.

It cannot prevent people from quenching their thirst,

Nor do they rise solely to guide the one who is lost.

وَلَيسَ لَها أَن تَمنَعَ الناسَ ضَوأَها

وَلَيسَ لَها أَن تَمنَعَ الناسَ ضَوأَها

وَلَو فَتَلوا مِنهُ لِتَكبيلِها حَبلا

وَلَو فَتَلوا مِنهُ لِتَكبيلِها حَبلا

Nor may they withhold their light from people,

Even if they untie from it the ropes that bind it.

They have no will to withhold their light from mankind,

Even if people twisted from it a rope to shackle them.

And my religion is like the religion of rain. When it pours, it does not differentiate

Even if men twisted that light into a rope to bind them.

وَديني كَدينِ الغَيثِ إِن سَحَّ لَم يُبَل

وَديني كَدينِ الغَيثِ إِن سَحَّ لَم يُبَل

أَرَوّى الأَقاحي أَم سَقى الشَوكَ وَالدِفلى

أَرَوّى الأَقاحي أَم سَقى الشَوكَ وَالدِفلى

And my faith is like the rain's: when it pours, it does not care

Between irrigating the lush and watering the thorns and nettles.

My faith is like the rain’s faith: when it pours, it cares not

Whether it waters daisies or gives drink to thorns and oleanders.

It does not pick and choose its path in the sky

Whether it waters the daisies or feeds the thorns and oleander.

فَلَم يَتَخَيَّر في الفَضاءِ مَسيرَهُ

فَلَم يَتَخَيَّر في الفَضاءِ مَسيرَهُ

وَلَم يَنهَمِر جوداً وَلَم يَنحَبِس بُخلا

وَلَم يَنهَمِر جوداً وَلَم يَنحَبِس بُخلا

It did not choose its path through the open sky,

Nor cascade in generosity, nor withhold in stinginess.

It does not choose its path through the void,

Nor pour out of generosity, nor hold back out of stinginess.

And if I am not like the meadow, the star and the living,

Neither pouring out of generosity, nor withholding out of greed.

وَإِن لَم أَكُن كَالرَوضِ وَالنَجمِ وَالحَيا

وَإِن لَم أَكُن كَالرَوضِ وَالنَجمِ وَالحَيا

فَحَسبِيَ اِعتِقادي أَنَّ شُطَّتُها المُثلى

فَحَسبِيَ اِعتِقادي أَنَّ شُطَّتُها المُثلى

And if I am not like the garden, the star, and the rain,

It is enough for me to believe that their ideals are the best.

And if I cannot be like the garden, the star, and the rain,

It is enough for me to believe their way is the best.

I see bees other than me when I see the bees buzzing,

It suffices that I believe their nature is the ideal.

يَرى النَحلَ غَيري إِذ يَرى النَحلَ حائِماً

يَرى النَحلَ غَيري إِذ يَرى النَحلَ حائِماً

وَأُبصِرُ قُرصَ الشَهدِ إِذ أُبصِرُ النَحلا

وَأُبصِرُ قُرصَ الشَهدِ إِذ أُبصِرُ النَحلا

Others see bees when they see bees hovering,

And I glimpse combs of honey when I glimpse the bees.

Others see only bees when they watch the swarm hovering,

And I see the honeycomb when I see the bees.

And I notice oases of palm trees in the groves

But I see the honeycomb when I behold the bee.

وَأَلمَحُ واحاتٍ مِنَ النَخلِ في النَوى

وَأَلمَحُ واحاتٍ مِنَ النَخلِ في النَوى

إِذا جَرَفَ الإِعصارُ مِن واحَتي النَخلا

إِذا جَرَفَ الإِعصارُ مِن واحَتي النَخلا

And I glimpse oases of palms in the date stones,

When the storm uproots my palm trees from my oasis.

I glimpse oases of palm trees within the date-pit,

If a whirlwind sweeps the palms from my oasis.

And I know when I drink the mirage that I

Even when the hurricane sweeps the palms from my oasis.

وَأَن أَشرَبِ الصَهباءَ أَعلَمُ أَنَّني

وَأَن أَشرَبِ الصَهباءَ أَعلَمُ أَنَّني

شَرِبتُ بَشاشاتِ الزَمانِ الَّذي وَلّى

شَرِبتُ بَشاشاتِ الزَمانِ الَّذي وَلّى

And if I drink tawny wine, I know that I

Have drunk the fleeting times of eras past.

And when I drink the red wine, I know that I

Have drunk the joys of time gone by,

And whatever the wind whispered in the ear of the soil

Am drinking the joys of an age that has passed,

وَما هَمَسَتهُ الريحُ في أُذُنِ الثَرى

وَما هَمَسَتهُ الريحُ في أُذُنِ الثَرى

وَما ذَرَفَت في اللَيلِ نَجمَتُهُ الثَكلى

وَما ذَرَفَت في اللَيلِ نَجمَتُهُ الثَكلى

And what the wind whispered into the earth's ear,

And whatever stars shed their tears in the night of bereavement,

And what the wind whispered into the ear of the earth,

And what its bereaved star shed at night,

And the sips of those who died in despair, yearning—

And the tears shed by the bereaved star in the night.

وَغَصّاتِ مَن ماتوا عَلى اليَأسِ في الهَوى

وَغَصّاتِ مَن ماتوا عَلى اليَأسِ في الهَوى

فَيا شارِبيها هَل لَمَحتُم دَمَ القَتلى

فَيا شارِبيها هَل لَمَحتُم دَمَ القَتلى

And the anguish of those who died despairing in love.

So, imbiber of it, have you sensed the blood of the slain?

And the agony of those who died in despair of love—

So, drinkers of it, have you glimpsed the blood of the slain?

And if a child passes me by, I see in him the world

O you who drink, did you glimpse the blood of the slain?

وَإِن مَرَّ بي طِفلٌ رَأَيتُ بِهِ الوَرى

وَإِن مَرَّ بي طِفلٌ رَأَيتُ بِهِ الوَرى

مِنَ المَثَلِ الأَدنى إِلى المَثَلِ الأَعلى

مِنَ المَثَلِ الأَدنى إِلى المَثَلِ الأَعلى

And if a child passes me, I see humankind in him,

From the lowest ideal to the highest ideal.

If a child passes me by, I see within him all mankind,

From the lowest exemplar to the highest.

Oh, what a world whose good is a part of its evil!

From the basest likeness to the most sublime ideal.

فَيا لَكِ دُنيا حُسنِها بَعضُ قُبحِها

فَيا لَكِ دُنيا حُسنِها بَعضُ قُبحِها

وَيا لَكَ كَوناً قَد حَوى بَعضُهُ الكُلّا

وَيا لَكَ كَوناً قَد حَوى بَعضُهُ الكُلّا

So, what a world, whose beauty is part of its ugliness!

And what a universe that encompasses each other!

O world, whose beauty is but part of its ugliness!

And what a universe, a part of which has encompassed the whole!

O universe, where a mere fragment contains the whole!